Jessica Rabbit Doesn't Count
by netgirly2k
Summary: Xander, Andrew and why it's okay to lust after cartoon characters. slash


After Sunnydale-Went-Boom Xander followed Buffy and Willow to Europe, hoping that finding new slayers and helping to establish the European branch of the watchers council would keep his mind off Anya. It didn't.  
  
Everywhere he went it was as if Anya was following him, in Italy he saw the leaning tower of Pisa and could almost hear Anya's voice saying 'This scorned woman wished the tower of Pisa would fall on her husbands head, she changed her mind at the last minute and I never got it quite straight again'. While in pursuit of a new slayer in Paris he remembered a story Anya had told him about a Frenchman whose wife had wished him into a frog, his lover had later accidentally eaten him.  
  
Eventually he returned to America, to Cleveland, where Faith, Wood and Andrew were keeping an eye on the Hellmouth. He didn't recall Anya ever talking about Cleveland. He threw himself into the familiar activities of patrolling and researching and the unfamiliar activity of Not Thinking About Anya. Both Faith and Wood respected his method of coping and let him get on with it, Andrew didn't, he kept trying to corner Xander, no doubt to apologise again, the last thing Xander wanted was to hear how *fucking sorry* Andrew was again.  
  
He managed to successfully avoid Andrew for a month, then it was Halloween and the four of them had taken a night off patrolling for popcorn and scary movies. Faith and Wood had disappeared halfway through the first film for an evening of loud obnoxious sex, when the final credits rolled on The Exorcist it was just Andrew and Xander left in the living room. Andrew was sitting on the same side as Xander's eye patch so Xander couldn't see the smaller man all of the time, he was beginning to get annoyed with Andrew rocking in and out of his field of vision like some kind of hyperactive Meerkat.  
  
"What else have we got?" Xander asked through gritted teeth.  
  
Andrew rooted through the pile of DVDs next to the couch, coming up triumphantly holding a familiar box, "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"  
  
Xander stared blankly at Andrew who fumbled for an explanation, "Scary things, Anya, rabbits...I just thought..."  
  
Xander didn't feel the surge of anger he'd expected upon hearing Andrew mention Anya, instead he felt relief that someone had talked about Anya without telling him how sorry they were.  
  
"Plus," Andrew said, getting up to put the DVD in the player, "Jessica Rabbit's kinda hot."  
  
"Aren't you gay?"  
  
"I am, Jessica's a cartoon she doesn't count."  
  
*  
  
After Halloween Andrew had a new mission in life, to keep Xander from wallowing about Anya. He forced Xander to make a list of all the comic books he'd lost in Sunnydale and set about rebuilding both of their collections from scratch, he spent council funds on DVDs, Playstation games and action figures. And on the rare occasions that Xander wanted to talk about Anya he stopped fidgeting and listened.  
  
Andrew went to great lengths to occupy Xander, if the carpenter had believed that Andrew was capable of influencing the evil that is network TV stations he'd have believed that he was directly responsible for the Deep Space Nine marathons that ran most weekends.  
  
It was during one of these marathons; during an episode that they'd both seen at least twelve times before that Xander kissed him. Andrew's lips were soft and warm and he must shave religiously because Xander couldn't detect a hint of stubble, his hair was that same straw colour that Anya had occasionally favoured.  
  
Xander later discovered that Andrew's skin was pale, smooth and mostly hairless and that he was pliant and willing when fucked.  
  
Xander was used to his relationships starting under bizarre circumstances; demon assassins, ascensions. Pretending his new boyfriend was his old girlfriend was nothing. Xander could thrust into him from behind, eye closed tight; pretending the body underneath him was someone else and calling out "Anya!" as he came.  
  
Gradually things changed, they didn't just fuck with Andrew on his knees turned away from Xander and pretending not to hear the things that Xander cried. They had sex face to face, Andrews legs hooked over Xander's broad shoulders, Andrew only rarely calling out 'Captain Archer' as he climaxed.  
  
Finally one day Xander realised that this was no longer just denial or comfort sex, this was a relationship. A relationship with long days in bed exploring the positions that two male bodies could be bent into, never ending debates about who the best Star Trek captain was and why it was acceptable to lust after cartoon characters, and Xander's droll threats to kill Spike (because if his boyfriend didn't stop lusting after the evil undead soon there would be a staking.)  
  
Andrew flopping naked onto the bed next to him interrupted Xander's musings, "Do you want to go see a movie before patrol tonight?"  
  
"Ok," Xander was finding it difficult to remember what was playing at their local multi-plex due to the fact that Andrew was crawling excruciatingly slowly up his body. It looked like the plan for today was sex, a movie, patrol, more sex. This, thought Xander, is the life.  
  
"Andrew?"  
  
"Mmm," Andrew looked up from his careful exploration of Xander's thigh.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Andrew froze, looking like a rabbit caught in headlights, "really?" he squeaked.  
  
"Yeah," Xander hadn't realised that it was true until the words were out of his mouth, he loved Andrew Wells. Oh well, they were on a Hellmouth.  
  
"I love you too. And honestly, I don't really like Spike that much, I bet you'd look hotter in the coat anyway. So what movie do you think..." Xander smiled contentedly as Andrew went into a very enthusiastic comparison of Hellboy versus Kill Bill while simultaneously exploring every possible entrance to Xander's boxers.  
  
Andrew still resembled a hyperactive Meerkat, but he was Xander's hyperactive Meerkat. 


End file.
